


Smashed

by det395



Category: ContraPoints
Genre: Antifascist catgirl, Catgirls, Catgirls of the world unite, Contrapoints - Freeform, F/F, Pet Play, anyway, uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/det395/pseuds/det395
Summary: Justine doesn't want to deny her desires anymore. And the category is: catgirls.
Relationships: Tabby/Justine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Smashed

**Author's Note:**

> I am sheltered behind my layers of shame and irony

“No! No voting! Revolution!” She yells at the screen. She lifts her bat high in the air with a strong grip but Justine grabs it just before it can come smashing down on the poor laptop.

“No, no, not my laptop hon,” she scolds, putting a gentle hand on the back of Tabby’s head right behind her ear. Tabby leans into it but Justine pulls her hand away. 

Tabby hisses weakly, slouching in her seat.

“We talked about this, smashing the laptop doesn’t smash the Nazi’s on the other end. Just like ripping up a book doesn’t help anything, either.” Justine picks up her tea and gently sits on the couch.

“I’m not dumb, you know. I just don’t know how anyone can go on the Internet without wanting to smash!” 

“Whoa there soldier,” she gives Tabby a look. “Do you go to therapy?”

“Don’t patronize me.” She drops her bat roughly on the desk.

“Actually, I think everyone needs therapy, especially those of us who are always overcoming the internalized shame derived from a life of coming into contact with bigots and gender essentialism.” She sips at her tea.

“I have no shame.”

“Clearly.”

Tabby is still tense, her shoulders raised and her eyes alert. Justine sighs, looking her up and down wistfully. She lifts her hand and beckons towards her.

Tabby flips over somewhat gracefully then moves to the couch. She crawls on all fours, laying down with her feet dangling off the side. Her head goes in Justine’s lap.

With long pointed acrylics, Justine slides through the curly, knotted hair and drags along Tabby’s scalp. She listens to the familiar scraping noise and feels every bump of hair she inadvertently tugs on. Beginning behind the cat ears, her fingers move in-and-out scratching and pulling while migrating down behind Tabby’s actual ear just how she likes. 

Tabby eventually relaxes and purrs, a soft vibration of her throat coupled with pleasured sighs that Justine likes to imagine are an unconscious reaction to the pleasure.

Justine moves her fingers in a slow, circular motion and looks across Tabby’s curled up body, at the tight leggings and the slip of pale skin where her shirt rucked up. So human, yet there’s something more to her, every movement curled in and gentle until the claws come out. When she moves, it’s faster than your eyes can recognize and when she relaxes, it’s much more graceful than should be possible for her lanky body. Justine leans in, listening intently and holding her breath with desire while her fingers never stop. The anticipation is killing her but she knows what to do. 

She scratches her nails down to the base of Tabby’s skull, down her neck following her spine while Tabby twists in pleasure. Her nails scratch down her back all the way until Tabby arches her back and thrusts her hips backwards. Finally, Justine hears what she wants to. A moan, a voice that’s overcome with pleasure, still so guttural and cat-like, from a place Justine knows is genuine.

Justine sighs in satisfaction. Why does she deny herself these desires she feels? Why does she still pull away and pretend it's not what she thinks about every day until her self control is no more? Until she feels safe enough alone with Tabby?

Tabby is more vocal, she moans and purrs and sighs and rubs her cheek against Justine’s thigh. She turns her head so that Justine will scratch behind her other ear, though now she’s facing Justine’s crotch. Her mouth opens and closes and she bites her lip roughly when Justine snags particularly hard on her hair.

She looks so free of worries, just the way she moves and speaks. Justine wonders, with a rash of guilt through her chest, why she’s ever so mean to Tabby. Why she takes her own anger on Tabby, when it's undoubtedly her own insecurity that fuel the opinions she has on being queer. She switches to gentle, fond petting of the sweet woman beneath her. 

Sweet? God, what’s gotten into her today. It must be the goddamn purring.

“You can be rougher than that,” Tabby says, lifting her head to look at Justine.

Instead, she puts her hand on Tabby’s jaw and swipes her thumb across her cheek until it reaches Tabby’s mouth. She feels the softness of her lip then pushes past the wetness with anticipation growing until finally, Tabby bites down enough to make her wince and whimper. Her eyes are glowing and intense, staring into her own without fear. Is it bad that Justine wants to make her fall apart?

Tabby tugs down, holding her thumb in the iron grip of her sharp teeth, and Justine gives in, leaning down until she’s close enough to smell her and see every pore. Tabby lifts her head and bites her bottom lip, going in hard with her fang. Justine whimpers and presses down further, grabbing Tabby by the jaw. She hisses and Justine smiles against her. She presses further down and restrains Tabby until the claws come out, until her sharpened nails reach around to her back and squeeze into her skin.

It’s far too difficult like this, she slides out from under Tabby’s head and flips over on top of her. It’s better when she has control. She rushes forward and kisses Tabby, who groans in protest, but just nips and bites as Justine tries achingly to kiss like a human. It’s still hot, she can’t lie. She feels herself swell up, making her pants slightly too tight. Tabby gets her hands under Justine’s shirt and scratches while she bites.

“I love you,” Justine moans, letting her weight fall down. Tabby pushes her back instantly.

“What?”

“What?” Justine repeats back. “What if I want to be honest about the things I love. So what if I love catgirls!”

“Are you even talking to me? Or just trying to get over your insecurities through me? Will you get off, don’t make me get my bat!”

Justine sits back, pouting.

“Is it because you love Adria? Is that it? Just tell me!”

“What? You know I’m poly.” Tabby throws her hands up.

“Yeah…”

“You’re impossible sometimes.” Tabby untwists her clothes.

“Don’t leave again,” Justine slumps back in defeat.

“It feels like you’re always trying to mould me into something new. You  _ know  _ that I think monogamous sh-ocial sh-tructures of commitment are patriarchal and created by capitalist institutions and that my occupation is far too dangerous to ever—”

“I know, I know. Just let me say it sometimes,” Justine says. “Is that so impossible?”

“It kind of ruins my mood. Could you just say ‘good kitty’?”

Justine whimpers but nods and puts her hands out. Tabby crawls on her lap and Justine pulls her closer.

“Good kitty,” she says, running her hands up Tabby’s sides.

Justine tries to meet Tabby’s lips, but Tabby get her mouth on her ear instead, and licks at her lobe and up the side. Justine strokes her back and sighs.

_ I love catgirls. I love Tabby. I just do. And fuck anyone who doesn’t understand. _

Tabby pulls back. “Can we use the bat again?”

“Ugh! Tabby! Why can’t we just have nice things?” She pushes her back.

Tabby makes a threatening growl but her voice eventually withers to nothing and they just sit there. They're clearly not matching each other today.

“Why don’t we just lay down and watch Youtube?”

Tabby shrugs. “Yeah. Alright.”

Tabby curls up on Justine’s lap again and Justine, at least, gets her hands on her. Tabby purrs.


End file.
